


The Adaption Administration

by clickingkeyboards, Nepturanus_thy_planet



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Eliza is most forgiving, F/F, F/M, Jane is a sarcastic and snarky teen, Just not everybody, Laurens is somehow the leader, Loads of gayness, M/M, Marie is a literal child, Multi, No spoilers and such ya know, Reincarnation, Will probby add more relationship tags as we go on, other historical figures - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nepturanus_thy_planet/pseuds/Nepturanus_thy_planet
Summary: It was the strangest setting - a group of children gathered around in a messy, cluttered room in an abandoned house to discuss the fate of the world.The world is in shambles, and nobody would fix it. Nobody could. So the world called upon those who had done it before, the Founding Fathers of America, great authors and inventors and those who died before they could change the world.Standing shoulder to shoulder once more, the Revolutionaries get ready to take on the world with The Adaption Administration, determined to fix the world as soon as possible - they thought they would fix the world in a few short weeks, but they didn't account for a few things: feelings, new friends, and romance.





	1. The Adaption Administration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations! I'm Lilith and I'm writing this in collaboration with nepturanus-thy-planet on tumblr and decided to post it here as well!

It was the strangest setting - a group of children gathered around in a messy, cluttered room in an abandoned house to discuss the fate of the world.  


Two teenage girls were sat in comfortable armchairs by the fire, gushing about boys and swapping stories about the heights of empires that fell long ago. A pair of boys they had yet to identify were having a screaming match so in-depth nobody could understand a word they were saying and had long since stopped trying to. By a table cluttered with mugs and piled high with books, a white-haired British boy and an American boy with a wild, curly bush of hair were exchanging stories. And, standing on the table were a French boy and a red-haired girl, the boy stamping his feet and the girl bellowing like Queen Boudicca, trying to get everyone’s attention.  


After much yelling, most people were listening, with the exception of the two arguing boys. Getting tired, the French boy took a deep breath and shouted, “Alexander! Aaron! We get it – you can’t believe he betrayed you, you can believe he shot you! Settle your differences later or I’ll put both of you out of my misery!”  


Shocked, they nodded sheepishly and sat down, glaring at each other.  


Pleased that he still had the air of command from years ago, the French boy straightened his cravat and grinned smugly at the redhead, leaping off the table and sitting beside Alexander, one of the boys who was arguing. When the talking rose again, the freckled American boy clambered up beside the redhead girl, calling out, “Al-right! I’m John Laurens, American Revolutionary, statesman, friends with the Founding Fathers of America! We’re back because the world we built and shaped is in turmoil - and it’s our job to fix it!” He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a Saltrock hoodie, his lightly-coloured hair seeming to trap any available light and send it rippling along his shoulders and across his face.  


“What exactly could have happened in fifty years?!” a round-faced British boy asked.  


“Fifty?!” the French boy exclaimed. “It’s been easily over two hundred!”  


“One hundred sounds about right,” another disagreed. He was wearing a t-shirt with a light bulb on it, with dark hair and blue eyes, and you could practically hear his mind whirring.  


“I agree, it’s definitely been one hundred years!” a small girl agreed. She had long, brown hair, with wide, curious blue eyes and a bright yellow t-shirt; she couldn’t have been more than twelve years old.  


“I don’t care how long it’s been since you died or whatever!” one of the girls shouted, standing up. She had long, chocolate brown hair that flowed down in her back in long waves, tied back into a loose, low ponytail, bright eyes, wearing a cozy white hoodie and a pair of denim jeans. “Right, Laurens; you’re the boss, so what we gon’ do?!”  


“I have no idea,” he complained, sitting down in a chair beside her, looking at all the faces staring at him from around the long, wide table. Waiting for him to speak. Exasperated, he turned to the girl beside him, saying, “Come on, Schuyler, you have some of the cleverest people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet sat around a table and you ask John Laurens how to proceed?!”  


“Well, who do we have here?!” the youngest asked – the one with the yellow t-shirt and a permanently curious look about her.  


“Alexander Hamilton!”  


“Aaron Burr.”  


“Eliza Schuyler.”  


“John Laurens!”  


“Marquis de Lafayette!”  


“William Shakespeare.”  


“Jane Austen.”  


“Albert Einstein!”  


“Queen Victoria.”  


“Wolfgang Mozart.”  


“Arthur Conan-Doyle!”  


“Charles Dickens.”  


“Queen Elizabeth.”  


“Florence Nightingale!”  


“Thomas Jefferson!”  


“James Madison.”  


“Mary Shelley.”  


“Thomas Edison!”  


“Eleanor Roosevelt.”  


Laurens turned to Eliza, saying, “All these great minds from anywhere and any time you care to name and you go and ask me?!”  


Marie Curie, the girl in the yellow t-shirt with the bright eyes, stood up on her chair to bring herself to the same height as Laurens, who was also standing up. “Well, you seem to be able to hold a conversation and tell people to shut up – that’s all a leader is, isn’t it? None of us seem to be able to do it quite as well as you, so go on…” She paused, but when Laurens didn’t move, she raised her voice. “Go on! Lead!”

Jane Austen couldn’t believe it. There were more people around the huge table who hadn’t introduced themselves, too absorbed in the wonder of the situation. There were people there she had looked up to and idolised all of her life… and she was among them. What was more, and incredibly shocking, is how different some of them were. Of course, the stark gender difference was the same: women being oppressed for most of history wasn’t a good recipe for getting female genii recognised. But there were people of colour, people that had been as white as paper before: Aaron Burr, James Madison, Thomas Jefferson and Florence Nightingale were all dark-skinned, and they hadn’t been when they were alive originally. Marie Curie had explained to them all that it was simply how they would look in the modern ages, with how racially inclusive the times were. Though some had changed, as Alexander Hamilton wasn’t redheaded any longer, even though he still had his violet-blue eyes, some hadn’t changed at all. Laurens wasn’t different at all, according to a sore-throated Aaron Burr, who had been yelling at Alexander Hamilton too much.  


But Jane was willing to put all this aside. Because she was influential. She was genius. Even as she pretended to be interested in Florence Nightingale and Albert Einstein exclaiming about how young they both looked, she was just happy to be put in the same room as all the wonderful people she had idolised for years and years. And she could hardly believe she deserved it.

For two hours, everyone had been talking excitedly, catching up as far forward in history as they could, learning of what the others did and why they were fit to be in that room. And, of course, all the Revolutionaries ran to each other, desperate to see the faces they hadn’t seen in two hundred years.  


“Laurens!” a voice yelled.  


Turning around, Laurens lit up at the sight of who was running towards him. “Alexander!” he cried, attacking the younger boy in a back-breaking hug, holding him tightly, as if he would disappear if Laurens let go. Gripping the back of Laurens’ hoodie with his fists, Alexander mumbled, “I missed you so much.”  


“I missed you too,” Laurens whispered, still not letting go. “My god, Alexander, I can’t believe you’re actually here.”  


“I hope you never leave.”

After rooting around for a handkerchief to dry his tears, Laurens noticed Lafayette storming over to them, red in the face, his dark hair tied back behind his head and his eyes dark with anger. “You cheating, lying, self-absorbed American c**t! How could you, Hamilton?! How could you?!”  


The pain shot through his face as he sprawled across the floor, coughing and spluttering. Looking between his friends, Laurens turned to the other Revolutionaries, silently begging for their help. Burr and Eliza shared a confused look and walked over. Unfortunately, Eliza couldn’t decide whose side to take: she and Alexander were the closest anyone could be with anyone, but they had betrayed Lafayette in the most terrible way. But Burr had no such doubts.  


“Monsieur Lafayette!” he shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder. “I’ve given him enough grief; I’ve punched him twice. I’ve reprimanded him for it, believe me. Leave him alone, let him have his reunion. And anyway, it’s our fault as much as his: if you want to punch him, you may as hit get me and Laurens while you’re at it.”  


Grumbling, Lafayette helped Alexander up, then gave him a hug. “Sorry for punching you, but you are a total twat.”  


“Thanks,” he muttered. “I suppose I deserve worse.”  


“No, I deserve worse,” Burr corrected. “You’ve only punched me three times… and I guarantee a bullet hurts more than that.”  
The other four turned to look at his uncomfortably and he took it as his cue to leave. Turning to the wide, curious eyes of Marie Curie, he had to remind himself that she was not a child, anything but. So he simply smiled and said, “Hey.”  


“Are you Aaron Burr, sir?” she asked.  


This was enough to send his mind whirling back to 1776, back to the energetic young man who had stopped him on the street, with eager eyes and a dream. Shaking his head to rid his mind of the memory, he nodded. “At your service. Marie Curie?”  


“At _your_ service,” she replied, nodding curtly. “So, what brings you to this room? Hang on, didn’t you serve under Thomas Jefferson?”  


“Yeah, I did. I still don’t know why I’m here, though,” he admitted.  


Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Well, you must have done something to be here, Aaron!”  


Not even protesting to the use of his first name, he simply thought back over all the things he had done… none of them seemed fit.  


“Did you kill somebody?” Marie asked suddenly. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from. But a lot of people are deemed influential or something like that for simply eliminating their competition.”  


“I did kill someone, yes,” he mused. “But they certainly didn't deserve it. What about you?”  


“I did work on ra-di-o-ac-ti-vi-ty,” she sounded out, frowning. “The chemicals in my stupid little twelve-year-old brain are affecting my speech.”  


Aaron laughed. “Well, teenagers are impulsive, right? We have some of the most impulsive people in the world and now they have teenage hormones pumping through their  
veins.”  


Hearing what he said, Alexander looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I was talking about you!” Burr shouted over, laughing.  


“Burr, Lafayette has his bayonet and he likes me more, you really want to try?” he called back.  


“Go on, Hamilton, even the score!” Burr shouted back.  


Marie looked at him, shocked, “You! You’re the guy that shot him!”  


Burr looked severely uncomfortable and nodded. “Yes, yes I am.”  


“I’m going to be real with you here,” Marie said frankly. “I would have shot the guy way earlier than you if I had to put up with as much shit as you did.”  


“I would never expect you to swear, you know.”  


Marie raised an eyebrow and said, “I would never expect you to shoot your former best friend.”  


“Touché,” he muttered. “Very good.”

Edison had dragged Laurens away from a conversation with Alexander to remind him that the most ‘modern’ person there was almost one hundred years behind – they needed to catch up. Of course, that was when Alexander and Aaron started arguing again, and they hadn’t stopped in the twenty minutes that Laurens had been stood on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs.  


“Is there one piece of technology in this room?!” Laurens yelled over the loud chatter.  


Elbowing right between Aaron and Alexander, who both had sore throats at this point, Jane Austen crouched down to the ground and rooted around in a black rucksack that belonged to Alexander. Tossing aside a few empty notebooks and a few more that were overflowing with cramped, messy writing, and raising her eyebrows at a few letters – written to Laurens, of course, Jane pulled out something she didn’t recognize. It was a thin, flat, silver device, with a logo on the back she didn’t know. It was a MacBook.  
“Alexander has this!” she called out.  


“I’ve got this!” Marie shouted, holding out a tablet.  


“Me too!”  


Nightingale held out a phone. “I’ve got this!”  


“So do I!”  


“And me!”  


“I’ve got this!”  


“Ooh, what about this?!”  


With the encouragement of, surprisingly, Aaron Burr, Alexander stood up on his chair and shouted, “There are thousands upon thousands of books in this room! Read, talk to each other more, get your technology working! Find out everything you can! We need to know the current state of the world! We need to know!”  


To end his eloquent speech, Alexander had grinned at Burr when he turned away, not noticing the wide grin Laurens was directing towards him, as he was still standing on the table. Too concentrated on Alexander, Laurens tripped off the table, sending both him and Alexander sprawling across the rug, much to Burr’s amusement: he took a photo on his new phone.  


Despite Laurens’ orders to catch up on what they had missed, everyone, of course, instantly went to find out how they had been remembered.


	2. How We Were Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The genii are eager to dive into the world of the 21st century to find out how the world remembered them - some will be amazed at adaptions of their work, some will be shocked that their inventions are still being used, some will be disappointed that they have some been largely forgotten: the Revolutionaries will be shocked at the... interesting way their legacies have been honoured.

“They teach my literature in schools to children?!” William crowed, laughing aloud. William had short, clipped hair and wore an expensive looking t-shirt with a map of the world on it, paired with an expensive-looking blazer. “Do they not realise how rude all the jokes are?! How the meaning behind some was men being in love?!”

“Oh, that’s legal now, by the way!” Laurens called out, rocking back in his chair and flashing his pearly-white teeth in a grin. Elbowing Alexander, he said, “Now you can legally have affairs with both genders!”

“Legally?!” Lafayette exclaimed. “Meaning you did before?!”

Looking at Laurens’ blushing and laughing face, he said, “Oh, I worded it wrong.”

“Out of interest, ‘Sir’ Laurens,” Florence Nightingale began, tossing a pencil at him to get his attention. “Why would you be googling that?”

Laurens turned bright red and buried his face in a cushion.

Arthur Conan-Doyle was marvelling over how his works had been adapted, muttering, “Brilliant, just brilliant.”

James Madison tossed a biro at him to get his attention, saying, “Oi, Conan-Doyle, look at this…”

“Okay, who are Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss and how have they mutilated my writing?!” he demanded indignantly.

A while later, Thomas Jefferson looked up sharply from the computer he was using. “A musical?!”  


“Oh, you’ve got that too?” Aaron Burr asked. “I thought I was going crazy.”  


Coughing and adjusting his crutches, James Madison spoke up. “Hey, there’s writing about it - that ‘fan fiction’ stuff.”  


“…Go ahead,” Lafayette smirked, at the same time Alexander blurted, “Don’t, Madison!”  


“A, since when have I listen to you, Alexander?” he deadpanned. “B, I’ve already read some of it. You know, Lafayette, there’s some very interesting stuff about you and Mulligan.”  


“Oh, shut up!” Lafayette snapped.

“Oh, no way! That is rather… strange. Yet it’s strangely plausible!” Eliza exclaimed, almost to herself. “Say, Aaron, come over here – you’ll have a good laugh at this. You’ll never guess who people think had an affair!”  


“Oh, go on, surprise me,” Burr muttered, standing up and strolling over.  


“Laurens and Alexander!” she grinned, pointing over to them dramatically, where they were chatting about all the new developments in the equality movement, Alexander waving his arms around, animated like a puppet. “Don’t you think it’s great, John?! Now people can marry who they love!” Alexander was saying, while Laurens watched and commented occasionally, mostly just watching the way Alexander’s face lit up about the things he was passionate about.  


“There’s fanfiction about it too!” she exclaimed. “Look at this website: it’s called Ao3, and it’s an absolute goldmine of embarrassment for the two of them.”  


Deciding he had to tell them about it, he walked over. “Hi, Laurens, Hamilton,” Burr greeted, leaning over the back of the sofa they were sat on.  


Laurens jumped and almost knocked Alexander’s laptop off his lap, while Alexander turned around and hissed, “What do you want, Burr?”  


Burr leant over even further and typed something into Alexander’s laptop. “I just wanted to show you something… and there you go, Alex!”  


“Don’t call me ‘Alex’, Burr,” Alexander snapped in response, while Laurens muttered a sheepish, “Thanks, Burr.”  


“Why? The name reserved for a special someone?” he joked teasingly.  


Alexander didn’t respond, too busy gawking at the screen.  


“Yeah, and they’re called Invisible and live on Imagination Land on Nonexistent Street,” Laurens grinned, elbowing Alexander in the side and looking at the screen. “Now, what is it you want us to – oh.”  


“Oh indeed!” Burr laughed. “So much for being reliable with the ladies, Alexander!”  


“Who… who writes this?!” Alexander choked out, finally finding his voice.  


“A lot of people,” Burr replied, laughing. “An awful lot.”

Finally, Marie proclaimed to the entire room what they were all thinking: “The world is a trainwreck.”  


“Eloquently put,” Jefferson muttered, while William Shakespeare, Arthur Conan-Doyle and Jane Austen shared a horrified look which read, I am so glad we’re British.  


Standing up, Burr voiced his opinion, which was something he rarely did, yet something they could all agree on. “How on earth did this man become president?!”  


“He wants to ban Muslims!” a young girl in a Hijab cried, one of the genii who hadn’t named themselves in their first meeting, if you could call it that.  


“Exile immigrants!” Alexander shouted.  


“Rape woman!” Eliza Schuyler yelled.  


“He’s a racist!” Laurens proclaimed.  


With that, the room exploded into noise once more, people saying what he could do better and how they could delve deep into the law to find a way to force the man to step down. Amongst all the chatter, Alexander walked over to Burr, Laurens by his side.  


“I know I said that there was no worse man to become president than you… I take it back.”  


“Good to know, Alexander,” Burr smirked. “I told you so.”  


Laurens raised his voice, though he didn’t move from Alex’s side. “Start planning!” he bellowed, effectively blowing out Burr and Alexander’s eardrums. “Start planning what you want to work on, what you’re going to do! We can’t sit around and do nothing!”  


“Thanks for that, Laurens,” Burr muttered, walking off and sitting beside Marie, who had found something else that was exciting.  


“Sorry, Burr!” Laurens shouted over to him.  


“You’re not sorry at all!”

“There’s so much work to do!” Laurens shouted, hurling a notebook across the room. Alexander caught it, checked that it was his own, then opened it and carried on writing.  


“It’s nothing we can’t handle!” Arthur assured him.  


“I bet we can do it!” Marie exclaimed.  


Sighing, Laurens agreed grudgingly. “Fine. We can do it. But we all want to fix different things! I’m for the imbalances in equality that are still there for some reason, while Edison is for energy savings, Marie for cancer cures, Alex for the general political system, Austen for education… if we fracture into factions we’re never going to get anything done. We need some sort of order to this place. As much as I can hold a conversation, stop Aaron and Alexander starting World War Three during discussions, I can’t make political decisions that influence one hundred genii, half of them unrecognised and determined to make their mark. Especially when I’m not one. So you know what I say?”  


“I say we have a vote!” Laurens shouted, stamping his foot and sending papers flying into the air, almost spilling glasses of water and shaking everything else on the table, where it had been custom for the speaker to stand. “Anybody who wants to go for it can! No restrictions, no limitations, no one will be forced. Just remember this: we are voting for a leader. Someone who can unite a hundred people with a hundred different ideas and morals and take us all the way to changing the world – no pressure, of course. Half of the genii here died unrecognised, having lead lives of unfulfilled potential. This is your chance to get recognised! We may have our eventual leader assigning different roles to those under them, so if you don’t believe your place is in the spotlight, you can take the backseat and still do what you would like. We will hold as many votes as we need to come to a decision! Who’s with me?!”  


There was a deafening cheer, stamping feet and excited chatter, and in the midst of all the chaos, Aaron Burr and Thomas Jefferson traded a loaded, dangerous look. “Up for round two, Burr?”  


“I’m never one to back down from a challenge, Jefferson.”  


Madison approached Alexander, saying, “We can’t have history repeat itself… we can’t have the Election of 1800 happen again.”

Worried that history was truly repeating itself, Alexander took a few paces away from the group and sat down heavily in an armchair and took out his notebook, writing down all of his thoughts as fast as he could. After noticing that his friend has vanished from his side, Laurens walked over, leaning on the back of the chair and watching him write in silence, occasionally pointing out something that he thought was absolutely brilliant or flawless: it seemed to be something only he was allowed to do, because Alexander hated anyone else reading his writing without permission.  


“Hey, Alex, what’s up?” he asked softly, his hand reaching out to mess up his hair.  


“Look what you’ve done,” he said simply, sighing. That was Alexander: blunt and straight to the point. “It’s the Election of 1800 all over again.”  


Realising what he had (accidentally) done, Laurens took three steps and crouched down in front of his friend. He placed his hands on Alexander’s knees and said, “I will do everything in my power to stop history repeating itself, Alexander. Everything in my power.”

“Hey, Aaron, check this out!” Laurens called out. “It’s one of the songs from that musical!”  
Alexander gave him a look that clearly read ‘you’re willingly speaking to him?’ and shifted closer to him, as if he could melt into Laurens’ side and avoid another screaming match with Burr.  


“What’s it about?” Burr asked, leaning over the back of the sofa. Spotting the essay on Alexander’s lap, he pointed to it and said, “Oh, you were working on that yesterday. How many pages are you going for?”  


“I don’t really know. As many as it takes to get my point across. Angrily, of course,” he half-smiled.  


“Huh, I should take your advice for once. It might help me stick out more.”  


Confused, Alexander raised an eyebrow and asked, “What advice?”  


"The way you took my advice and twisted it. Sleep less, write more.”  


Alexander laughed and it was contagious: he had everyone in the vicinity laughing in seconds.  


“What song is it, anyway?” Burr questioned.  


“The Election of 1800. Come on, let’s see how they interpreted it.”  


Five minutes later, they were all laughing. Alexander was wheezing quite loudly, as he always did when he laughed too hard. Laurens rubbed his back and squeezed his hand as he coughed, while Marie walked past and shouted, “Get an inhaler!”  


“I was never that bad, was I?” Aaron complained, looking around at the others for reassurance.  


“Talk less, smile more!” Alexander mimicked. “Yes, you were ‘that bad’! You were worse! Much worse!”  


“Shut up,” he snapped playfully.

Jane Austen and William Shakespeare were poring over a laptop together, muttering about how different English was, and how strangely things were taught.  
“Honestly, making teenagers dramatically act out poems they have written isn’t teaching them at all!” William exclaimed. “What if someone doesn’t want to perform? Or gets shy? What then?”  


“And they basically stop learning to spell at secondary school!” And there aren’t compulsory books you have to read out of class?!” Jane asked. “Oh my gosh, people just aren’t reading as much nowadays!”  


“And what’s this ‘Harry Potter’?” William asked, a sour look on his face. “And they’re not putting on live productions as much?! That just takes away from it! Wait, hang on, I’ve found something that redeems it… Broadway looks quite exciting.”  


“They have adaptations of everything on televisions. Sherlock Holmes and Harry Potter and this… this ‘Twilight’ nonsense. And there are movies for everything? So people can skin out on reading and just stare at a screen instead!” Jane complained, groaning. “There’s so much to fix, heaven help us.”  


“Jane, your literature is considered ‘boring’ and ‘old fashioned’, my dear,” William added. “Apparently, these ‘Fifty Shades’ novels are more popular than yours!”  


“Oh, Arthur told me what they are!” Jane exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “How disgusting. Oh, where do we start?!”

Madison had been taken ill. Of course, it was inevitable, given his condition on his previous life, and the fact he had crutches gathered at his side when he was dumped outside the Mansion in the Middle of Nowhere with a letter in his hands, urging him to go inside. But he was worse than ever: he could only move so far, even while on crutches. Each movement felt like effort and his head hurt all hours of the day. After bearing the weight on his shoulders for a week, he couldn’t take it. In the middle of a research session with Thomas Jefferson, he simply passed out on his shoulder.  


“James? James?” Jefferson asked, confused. “It’s only ten in the morning, what’s wrong?”  


He didn’t respond, which was strange. Madison was a light sleeper on his best days, and could barely go ten seconds without coughing himself awake. “Marie!” Jefferson called out.  


“He’s unconscious, not asleep,” she observed the second she walked over. “Now, let’s see… wow. Yeah, bed rest for him, he’s weak as anything.”  


“Will he be okay?” Jefferson questioned, unusually anxious.  


Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Since when have you cared about other’s wellbeing, Mr Magenta? And also, it depends on how you treat him. We can find out what he feels like when he wakes up.” Marie was very run-of-the-mill with her diagnosis, as always. As if she couldn’t see how much it was panicking Jefferson. “Jefferson, I’m not a doctor, I’m a scientist. I have basic doctoral qualifications and a Nobel Prize in radiology. They’re two very different levels of two very different things.”  


“Your word is better than mine, Marie. And I need the best word I can get.”  


Stopping short, she turned back and said, softly, “You really care about him, don’t you?”  


Now lifting Madison into his arms, he muttered, “Now, what gave you that idea?”


	3. A Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens is having a hard time leading a hundred genii with different morals and decides to conduct a vote for another leader to head the American affairs. As everybody begins to plan their campaigns, Madison and Alexander realise something important: history is beginning to repeat itself, starting with the Election of 1800.

“Where do I start?!” Laurens shouted, throwing down his papers again. “There’s so much to work to do!”

He wasn’t lying. The list had fifty different points and it was his third draft. “The logical conclusion would be something happening currently: how Muslims are treated, for example. As you would put it: start a riot. Start a petition, write to every major company you can think of, write to our leaders,” he listed, getting up and sorting his paper into a pile. “Sorry, I’ve got to run some meds to Madison’s room and you know how far away it is.”

Laurens nodded, his eyes lighting up as he had an idea. “I’ve got something!”

Chuckling to himself, Alexander slowly made his way through the halls, bumping into the others, who said things like “Edison was looking for you, by the way,” and “Arthur has decided to campaign,” and “Burr dropped off the books you asked him to,” and “Florence left some of the food in the kitchen for you.” It was nice to have such a tight-knit community, people who knew anything and everything about each other, creating new inside jokes after their old ones were exposed by a quick google search. Though any secrets were laid bare for all to see, more were kept: ideas for campaigns, who was working with who, and someone was rumoured to have a crush on someone from their era, though no one could pluck up the courage to ask one John Laurens if it was true.

“How’s Madison?” he asked Jefferson quietly, seeing him making macaroni and cheese in the kitchen with a sullen look on his face.

“Alive. That’s about all Marie told me,” he muttered. “She booted me out the room to run a diagnostic test.”

Sighing, Alexander commented that eight-year-olds don’t always have the best judgement. Jefferson snorted at that. “Correct.”

“So,” Marie began carefully, calling Jane over. “I've been doing some hypothetical research into this topic for ‘a book I’m writing’ and… it says that people’s emotions and the sheer realisation that they get another chance would not hit for a while, especially as we are working ourselves so hard, and because we’re forming new friendships with those around us, which reinforces the idea that there is nothing extraordinary happening… but at times that are significant to their past lives, they’ll realise… and break down.”

“Are we’re not going to do anything to stop it?” Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no, they’ll try harder to hold it back and break even more explosively. We’ll just be there when they break.”

“Who’s going to break first?!” Jane asked urgently, looking around wildly as if it was going to happen there and then.

“Most likely one of the Revolutionaries,” she explained. “Because they’re surrounded by reminders and triggers everywhere they look. And maybe you.”

“Me?!” she exclaimed, almost shrieking. “Why me?!”

“You’re the most recent,” she explained. “You might come across something painfully similar to your time and it could trigger a realisation. And probably William or Arthur too: their fame is leaving reminders everywhere they look.”

“Fair enough,” Jane grumbled, folding her arms. “So we’re on lookout duty, then?”

“Basically. And nights should be dangerous too,” she added. “Nightmares and such. Good thing we’re both light sleepers.”

The first one of the Revolutionaries to break was Lafayette. Reading some ‘revolutionary facts’ to say how wrong or how right they are, he came across one that simply said, ‘when Lafayette visited America in 1825, he couldn’t go and visit his friends. Only their graves’.

Just like that, he snapped. Shouting intelligible words in a jumbled mix of French and English, the Marquis stared wildly around the room, as if seeing the others for the first time. “Alexandre… Laurens…”

Eliza took out her headphones and rushed over to him. “Lafayette! Marquis!” she called out, trying to reach through the frenzy he had suddenly snapped into.  
Jane and Marie rushed over together, tumbling over the back of the sofa to reach him. Jane crouched in front of him, talking and talking about anything and everything. Hurriedly, Marie explained that he had only just realised the gravity of the situation they were in and was trying to process it. “Does anybody know his full name?” she asked. “Isn’t it Marquis de Lafayette?”

Wondering who would break the news, they all stared at her in uncomfortable silence. “You mean… Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette?” Eliza muttered.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbled. “Say that again but louder.”

“I have to see France… Jefferson… Alexandre, Laurens, Mulligan, we have another change. Mon Dieu!” He trailed off into a long ramble, flashing back two hundred years to when his grief was fresh, then back twenty more as if he didn’t even remember the war. He spouted off dates and events as if he was a history book. “1791, the Reynolds Pamphlet, 1801, the duel, 1825, my visit to America, 1776, meeting Laurens and Alexandre…”

After a while, he snapped out of it, shaking his head and mumbling in French. “What was that, Marie?”

“Uh… just you realising that you’ve literally been reincarnated and how huge it is and yeah,” Laurens rambled, rushing over to check that he was alright.

He sighed, shaking still. “I just can’t believe we have another chance…”

“Guys, listen!” Burr called out, clapping his hands to get people’s attention. “I’ve found a rather… interesting letter that I’d like you all to hear!”

“Oh go on,” Eliza grinned, shooting a dangerous look towards Alexander.

“It reads ‘ _Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear-_ “ He paused to very deliberately miss out the name. “ _-It might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you.’_ Which is quite an opener, even for our time, when men spoke more eloquently to their wives and more openly to their fellow men,” Burr read out, taking a deep breath and looking around to see everyone’s reactions.

“Are you suggesting that a man wrote this to another man?” Laurens blurted, astounded. “In our time? That’s ridiculous!”

Burr raised an eyebrow – he had expected some of them to be shocked... just not Laurens.

Alexander coughed sheepishly and looked away.

“Did you write that to me?” Eliza asked. “Wait, no, it can’t be... I set all those on fire.”

Laughter rippled through the room. Marie poked her head over the sofa behind Burr. “Oh, them,” she mumbled dully, sinking down behind the sofa and having a giggling fit.

“Was it to Maria?” Madison asked.

Alexander glared at him. “No.”

“To Burr?” Jane guessed.

Everyone pulled grossed-out faces until Marie sang softly, “‘ _I have the honour to be your o-be-di-ent serv-ant._ ’ It sounds kinky, ‘m just sayin'.”

“You are doing a lot more than ‘just saying’,” Burr mumbled. “No, guess.”

“Can I - ah, how you say? - google it?” Lafayette asked.

“No.”

Jefferson coughed. “It was Laurens and Hamilton, obviously.”

Eliza spat her sweet tea everywhere, spluttering. “You had two affairs?!” she screamed.

Alexander threw his hands across his face and yelped. “Please don’t hit me!”

“I won’t,” Eliza promised. “Not with my first, anyway.”

She rolled up her newspaper and smacked him across the face with it. “I’m still annoyed but it was a lifetime ago so I’m going to grudgingly forgive you.”

Sighing with relief, Alexander threw his arms around Eliza and hugged her tight. Laurens leant over to Burr. “Either my eyesight is defective or Alexander grabbed your hand when he got scared,” he whispered.

“He did,” Burr answered, his cheeks darkening.

“What happened in 1791?” Arthur asked, flicking through a book on the Revolutionaries. “The Reynolds Pamphlet?”

Alexander groaned and everyone else laughed. “Okay, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” he asked Arthur.

“Well, I sent letters to five of my friends as a joke, I repeat: as a joke, saying ‘we are discovered, run away’, or something to that effect, and two of them literally vanished and I never saw them again. And it’s worth mentioning that they were high-up members of the government.” He laughed to himself.

“That sounds like something Laf would do to me and Jefferson,” Alexander remarked. “Anyhow, did you ever have an affair?”

“No, my character did,” he said, straight-faced.

Taking a breath, Alexander began his story. “Okay, so I wrote a book about a man having an affair with a woman after she tricked him into thinking she was poor and homeless, and her husband found out so her paid the husband not to tell anyone and carried on having sex with her, all because he was unable to say ‘no’. And all of this happened while his wife was on holiday upstate with his children, and he hadn’t gone because he was too busy working.”

Arthur whistled. “Wow, that’s an intense storyline. Your point?”

“I was the main character.”

“Jesus Christ!” Arthur exclaimed, falling off his chair. “Holy shit! Pardon my French, but… fuck, Hamilton. Fuck. What’s wrong with you?!”

Eyes widening, Alexander tried to squirm back into the sofa cushions. Immediately, Eliza jumped up and held out a hand to stop Arthur, Burr protectively throwing an arm in front of him. “We’ve given him enough grief,” they said together.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Arthur apologised numbly, walking to Alexander and holding out a hand. They shook stiffly, until Jane asked, “What do you mean, ‘two of my characters had an affair’?”

“Oh, um…” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Eh, about that… I may have hinted at a homosexual affair throughout… all the books. All the Holmes books. An affair between Holmes and Watson.”

“Oh, a bit like you hinted throughout your letters?” Burr muttered, nodding to Alexander and the red-faced Laurens on his other side.

“Can we please stop talking about the affair?” Alexander asked.

“Affairs. Plural,” Laurens corrected.

“Guys, shut up,” Burr yawned. “We can only talk about it so much without it becoming annoying.”

“Wow, I… thanks,” Alexander muttered.

Later on in the day, there was a loud knock at the door, making everybody jump out of their skins. “Who is it?” Madison asked, leaning forwards and toppling off the sofa in a heap of blankets.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, James, we can’t see through wooden doors.”

“I’ll look,” Burr offered, getting to his feet and walking out of the room, Alexander at his heels.

They slid back the bolt on the door and flung it open, the warm sunlight flooding the hall. Two teenagers stood in the doorway, letters in their hands and bags at their feet. New genii. The shortest one had dark skin and a mane of wild, curly hair tied up in a messy high ponytail on the top of their head, wearing black sweatpants and a pale yellow t-shirt, like the colour Marie would wear but subdued. They had full lips and eyes burning with determination. The other one of the duo was tall, with long, brown curly hair curling down her back, wearing a long, pink dress and a jacket.

“Where is my sister?!” the smaller girl demanded, her voice loud and shrieking. “Where is Eliza?!”


	4. The Schuyler Sisters Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining two Schuyler Sisters arrive at the Administration, much to the excitement of Eliza. Unluckily for Burr, Angelica instantly recognises him and attacks him in fury. Alexander patches Burr up, cleaning out his wounds, then helps the others fill them in on what they missed, including the Laurens affair...

“Where is my sister?!

The shriek echoed through the entire house, scaring everyone in the library and scaring Arthur and William drop and smash several plates from the kitchen, as they were cooking lunch for everyone. “Fucking shit!” Arthur yelled while William cursed creatively in Shakespearean insults.

In the hallway, Angelica had leapt forward and punched Burr square across the face, screaming, “How dare you?! How dare you?!” She carried on kicking and hitting him, screaming abuse as Burr stood there, taking the hits without putting up a fight, thinking he deserved them.

Running out into the hall was Eliza, grinning and laughing and crying, tackling her sisters in a huge hug, screaming about how happy she was to see them. They were so happy they didn’t even notice Burr.

* * *

  
With a strangled choking noise, Burr toppled backwards after losing his footing on the shiny floor, crashing into the tiles and smashing his head. Panicking suddenly, Alexander dropped to his knees and leant down to Burr’s face, his nose streaming blood and one eye squeezed shut. “Don’t hit me!” he shouted desperately, trying to push away from Alexander, his hands over his face, guarding himself.

“I’m not going to hit you, Burr,” Alexander promised, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “I swear on my life.”

Burr didn’t speak, but he stopped struggling away from Alexander’s touch. Still not taking it as a yes, he stepped away to let his friend get up. “Can you stand?”

“No, quite frankly, I think I’ll faint,” Burr replied dryly, tugging his knees to his chest and swiping a hand across his bloody lip. “Give me a hand.”  
Holding out a hand, Alexander knelt down a little, waiting for Burr to steady himself on it, which he did. Together, they stumbled off to the kitchen, Alexander with an arm curled around his middle to stop him falling.

“Woah, who did you piss off?!” Arthur exclaimed, whirling around so fast he swept a plate out William’s hands. He groaned and whacked Arthur over the head with a rolled-up newspaper, shouting something along the lines of, “You bull’s pizzle!”

“Angelica Schuyler,” Alexander replied stiffly, helping Burr up onto the counter.

Burr winced as Alexander swept a cloth over his eye, over his nose and lip, watching the bruises blossom on his cheekbone.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much after this, I just need to give you a swab of antiseptic so it doesn’t get worse. Hold still and it won’t sting as much,” Alexander explained, talking himself through the procedure, to reassure himself and Burr. Stretching out his hand, Burr awkwardly grasped at Alexander’s wrist; he never did well with stinging pain. It took him a moment to realise, but when he did, he offered out his hand for Burr to take as he attacked his cheek with a swab.

“Ouch!” Burr hissed, and Alexander laughed softly. Burr grumbled. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexander replied sincerely, squinting as he focused on the wound.

“You know I wouldn’t let anybody hurt you, right? Including me: I would never let myself do anything to you, not like I did before,” he promised quietly, under his breath.

Flinching again and grabbing Alexander’s hand tighter, he smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Alexander.”

His eyes widened at being called Alexander as opposed to Hamilton, but he didn’t look up. Arthur nudged William and muttered something about them being worse than his own characters, to which William snorted and flicked water at him.

“Feeling better?” Alexander asked, stepping back to admire what he and Marie had done, as he had called Marie in when he realised the extent of the damage. A white bandage played across his cheekbone and his lip was stitched up neatly. The hard cast bundling up his wrist was tucked underneath the sleeve of his hoodie and he looked a lot better, though still fragile and vulnerable.  
“A lot better,” he mumbled, folding his arms in front of him. Then he awkwardly put his arms around Alexander’s shoulders and hugged him. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem at all, Burr.”

* * *

  
“Who on earth are they?” Marie asked, pointing to the door.

“Don’t point, it’s impolite,” Jane sighed, before registering what she actually said. “Wait, new people?”

Mary shot up from her chair too fast and stumbled forward, falling to her knees. Jane mumbled, “Looks like you just fell for Marie,” and made her way over to the new arrivals, ignoring the vauge shouts of, "You know I'm aromantic!" from Mary.

“Ah, Jane!” Eliza chirruped. “Just the person I was looking for; I need someone to explain this whole fantastical situation!”

Eliza flounced off to go and fill in the others, filled with boundless new energy. Sighing, Jane turned to face the two new girls. “So…” she began. “Who are you?”

“Angelica Schuyler,” Angelica greeted, holding out a hand.

"Pleased to meet you," Jane greeted, accepting the handshake. After, they held eye contact for a second, their hands still touching. Then, Jane's eyes fell to the ground, then onto the other girl, the one Marie was looking at curiously.

“Margarita Schuyler,” Peggy introduced.

Jane gave an undignified snort of laughter. “Do you… do you have a nickname?” she asked Peggy breathlessly.

She folded her arms sulkily. “Peggy, if you would.”

“Jane Austen, 20th-century British author.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and looked back at Mary and Marie, who were all trying to contain their laughter and failing miserably.

Taking a deep breath and muttering a creative insult, she began to explain.

* * *

  
“So, how am I influential?” Angelica asked.

Peggy stopped tightening her high ponytail to stare incredulously at her sister. “Do you have amnesia?” When all she received was a blank look, she elaborated. “You were the first feminist in - like - ever. The question is: why am I here?”

“Even God can’t keep the Schuylers apart,” Laurens joked, smiling widely. “It’s good to see your face, Peggy!”

“Laurens!” she squealed, running at him and tackling him in a bear hug. “Oh my god, Laurens!”

Lafayette didn’t miss the opportunity to take a picture. “Marquis!” she shouted when she noticed. Lafayette winced at the name.

“Marie-Joseph,” Jefferson teased, not missing a beat.

“Paul Yves Roch,” Eliza offered.

“Gilbert du Motier,” Angelica grinned, not missing a beat.

“Marquis de Lafayette,” Madison finished.

He threw up a rude gesture and looked around for Alexander. “Where is Alexandre?” he asked, craning his neck.

“He's probably patching up Burr,” Peggy suggested sheepishly.

Laf looked confused, unfamiliar with the phrase. “Patching up?”

“Cleaning and rectifying an injury,” Jane defined dismissively, before realising what that actually meant. “Why would he be doing that?”

Rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, Angelica mumbled, “I may have punched him.”

“Angelica!” Laurens exclaimed, groaning and sliding out of his seat, onto the floor. “He can’t handle more injuries!”

“More injuries?” she repeated, curious and slightly guilty.

“Yes. We’ve all punched him and hit him and screamed at him countless times,” Eliza spat. “Then you go and punch him square in the face.”

She blushed deeply and covered her face. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t think I did too badly on that cast!”

They all turned their heads to the source of Marie’s cheerful voice and found her bouncing alongside Aaron and Alexander, Aaron with a large white plaster over his right cheek and cheekbone, and some sort of clear plaster on his lip. Blood was clotting in wounds over his face and his left arm was heavy with a thick, white plaster cast.

“I shouldn’t think you did, Marie,” Burr mumbled, half-smiling. “You’d better have done, otherwise you’ve dissaligned my bones for good.”

She snorted. “No, it wouldn’t be that drastic, I can assure you.”

Alexander spluttered. “Marie, fucking up something like that is pretty drastic.”

“Yeah, I know tha-” Noticing Jane staring at them, she ran over and tugged her by her sleeve, saying, “Look at what I managed to do! Pretty good for my first try after a hundred years, no?”

Aaron laughed softly as Marie roughly grabbed at his wrist, showing Jane her cast.

“Didn’t kill him, did you?” Jane commented.

“I should hope not, dying for a second time would be terrible,” Alexander remarked.

“Oh, shut up,” Burr mumbled.

* * *

  
Glancing at Angelica, Burr tucked his head to his chest, looking to the ground.

“Wow, you didn’t do a bad job, Angie,” Peggy blurted, much louder than intended.

That comment broke all the tension surrounding them. Laurens laughed so hard his laptop slipped off his lap, Alexander stooping down to catch it. “Well done, Laurens.”

“That’s not all you caught,” Eliza mumbled, her gaze remaining evenly on Laurens.

Everyone snorted with laughter again.

“What?” Peggy and Angelica asked in unison.

Burr sighed and collapsed on the sofa next to Alexander. “You have missed so much, you two.”

“The Laurens Pamph-” Jefferson began, Eliza reaching over to suffocate him with a pillow.

“Shut up,” she hissed. “Right, let’s tell you in order.”

* * *

  
“He had another fucking - pardon my French - affair?” Peggy asked, disbelieving.

“Alexander’s a… a sodomite?!” Angelica gasped, glaring at him in disgust.

Clearing his throat, Laurens spoke up. “As am I. I’m the one he had an affair with.”

Peggy held her sister down in her seat. “No, Angie!”

“It’s accepted now,” Laurens continued defiantly. “And that term went out of fashion years ago. Nowadays, the term is ‘homosexual’. Bisexual, in his case, and gay for me.”

“Gay?” Peggy echoed. “Doesn’t that mean girly?”

“Hey, a lot of words have changed meaning!” Eliza exclaimed.

“Yes, and Lafayette and Arthur found that out the hard way,” Laurens muttered, thinking back to when Lafayette was describing something and used the word 'ejaculated' instead of 'exclaimed', much to the amusement of Marie, who erupted into giggles the second he said it.

“Oh, shut up!” Lafayette exclaimed, burying his face in his hands.

“If it’s accepted… and if people love each other… I guess I can learn to live with it,” Angelica mumbled thoughtfully. Taking a deep breath, she announced, “I support homosexuality.”

“Is he still… like that?” Peggy asked curiously.

Pointing over to where he was sat, Lafayette commented that, “Their current - ah, how you say? - situation should tell you everything you need to know.”

Alexander was asleep, slumped over his laptop, Burr dozing beside him. Stirring briefly, Burr looked around, seeing everyone talking and apparently missing their searching gazes directed at them. Either that or he just didn’t care. When he saw the position Alexander was in, he sighed and rolled his eyes, pulled his laptop from his lap and saved what he was working on, then closed it down and tucked it into his bag, pushing him into a more comfortable position so he was sat upright. With that, he adjusted his earphones, slumped his head on Alexander’s shoulder, and fell asleep again.

* * *

  
“Huh, Graham Windham!” Jefferson exclaimed, grinning at his laptop screen. “Eliza, your orphanage! It’s still around today!”

Eliza’s eyes widened, bright with realisation and… fear? Taking in a shaking breath, she whispered, “The Orphanage… the Orphanage.” Louder. “The Orphanage.” Louder still. “The Orphanage.” Shouting. “The Orphanage! The Orphanage.” She fell to her knees, shouting and covering her ears, crying out as loud as she could. As if she could make her voice reach all the way back to 1804.


	5. The Orphanage

Eliza’s breath came fast and hard as she fell to her knees, crying. “No! Not Philip! Phillip! He might not live through this! I can’t lose someone, I can’t, I can’t!” Eliza screamed. “Alexander, what have you done to our boy?!”

Finally realising the gravity of the situation, Alexander rushed forward, taking Eliza’s hands in his own. “Betsey, Betsey, Betsey,” he whispered. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, sept, huit, neuf…”

“Sept, huit, neuf…” she mumbled, her eyes slipping shut. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was over. Too soon.

Suddenly, Eliza threw Alexander off her, sinking back down in the chair. “How could you… Alexander, I thought we had something. I thought you really loved me. Am I just decoration on the side?”

Alexander reeled back, stumbling into Laurens, who was frozen in shock. “Get of our bed, out of our house! You have ruined lives! You can sleep in your office among all your work if it’s so important to you!”

Burr caught onto Alexander’s arm to stop him falling, shooting a warning look at the Schuylers, who were glaring daggers at Alexander. Laurens fell to his knees in front of her, clasping her hands. “‘Liza. ‘Liza, please,” he begged.

Her eyes fixed on Laurens, and she took a breath. “A letter from Henry Laurens. _‘On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment. His dream of freedom for these men dies with him’_ ,” she recalled.

Laurens bit his lip and looked back at Alexander, who flinched and leaned more heavily on Burr. “No, ‘Liza, ‘Liza, you have to look at me.” Helplessly, Laurens stood and walked back as she began talking about Angelica. “I’m the last… Schuyler sister…” she whispered softly.

“No no no,” Peggy murmured frantically, running to her sister.

Eliza screamed, then began sobbing uncontrollably. “ _‘This letter, my very dear Eliza, will not be delivered to you unless I shall first have terminated my earthly career; to begin, as I humbly hope from redeeming grace and divine mercy, a happy immortality.’_ ”

“Not that letter…” Alexander whispered.

“I decide to pick up the pieces,” she whispered, picking herself up and smiling shakily. Inside her head, a hundred emotions whirled around in a hurricane and forced their way out of her mouth in jumbled sentences. “I have a long life ahead of me. I may as well use it to make sure the legacy you were so obsessed with is preserved. I wish I could have a hundred more years… that would be enough.”

“Oh…” he gasped faintly. “Betsey…”

“I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings! You really do write like you’re running out of time!”

“Oh, Eliza,” he smiled, gazing at her happily.

The one who had first coined the term ‘writing like he’s running out of time’ looked away, embarrassed.

She whirled around the room, her emotions flooding out of her in the form of tears, streaming down her face and streaking her cheeks. “I wonder what you would have done if you had more time! Though some of your work falls to pieces, I pick it up again because I have time!”

Tears ran down her cheeks and her body was wracked with sobs as she finally finished her tale on preserving the memory of her husband. “Oh, I can't wait to see you again… it’s only a matter of time…”

She sank to the ground, Alexander holding her shoulders as she cried. “I did it. I did it, Alex. Is it enough?”

She fell limp in his arms, faint from the exhaustion of her revelation. “Yes, Betsey,” Alexander whispered. “Yes, it was enough.”

* * *

When someone faints, the usual course of action would be to place them in a familiar room with soft lighting and perhaps surrounded by a few familiar childhood toys. Sadly, the close they had to a familiar room was the library, bright, glaring sunlight instead of soft lighting, and two extremely worried sisters as opposed to toys. When she woke, she mumbled, “Alexander,” and he rushed over.

“Eliza, Betsey, are you-” he began.

Peggy clenched her hand into a fist and whacked her sister's former husband straight between the eyes. He stumbled backwards and fell over, making everyone look up in alarm. “That’s for the Reynolds affair,” she announced, rubbing her knuckles.

Eliza gasped, scandalised. “Margarita!” she exclaimed. “How dare you?!”

“You lying, cheating bastard orphan!” Angelica shouted. “Lizzie deserved so much better than you!”

“I know she did, I know, I know!” Alexander shouted.

Peggy kicked him in the shin, only to be pulled down in her seat by her sister. “Guys, stop it!”

“I deserve much worse than that, don’t I?” he groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Yes,” Jefferson smirked.

Alexander took a deep breath. “Says the man who had an affair with his slave!”

He winced. “That was low, Hamilton.”

“I apologise,” he muttered testily, picking himself up off the floor.

Burr raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, refraining from making a sarcastic comment. Alexander caught the look and winked at him.

Eliza was already recovering, wanting to dive straight back into her work. “So, what’re we doing right now?”

“I’m working on the immigration policies,” Alexander offered.

“Taxes,” Jefferson added.

“Gender equality,” Angelica said.

“Yeah, I know what you’re all working on, but like… particular essays or projects as of right now?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m struggling with the education system,” Jane piped up. “And my campaign.”

The campaigns for who would lead the American affairs were launching the following week, and everyone was rushing to finish theirs. Surprisingly, Alexander had chosen not to campaign, but it was probably because he had been appointed as Laurens second-in-command of the whole company, working with Marie as his other second. Burr and Jefferson were both campaigning, just as Madison and Alexander feared. Madison was working hard on helping Jefferson, though he would subtly sabotage anything that directly went against Burr’s campaign. Arthur and William worked as go-betweens for Burr and Jane, who weren’t allowed to directly exchange information about their campaigns. Angelica was helping Burr with the feminist part of his campaign, presumably to annoy Jefferson, not because she liked Burr.

* * *

The first vote came around quickly, knocking out the worst and keeping the rest. They simply kept the top six genii, as there was a huge divide in votes between the sixth and the seventh. The remaining candidates were Burr, Jefferson, Jane, Arthur and William as a duo, Edison, and a young Muslim girl called Omera, an undiscovered genius from the 1930s. Alexander and Marie were planning their first journey into New York and didn’t really register the results beyond the odd, “Oh, that’s good,” or “I hope you fail.”

“Hey, didn’t Jefferson and Aaron face off in an election before?” Marie asked through a mouthful of pins, which she was sticking into the map at various points, marking locations that Alexander declared they had to visit.

That brought the reality home. Alexander slouched in his chair and Marie could instantly tell that he fainted. In her shock, her mouth dropped open, scattering pins all over the floor. Omera looked up from her phone. “You okay, Marie?”

Nodding faintly, she tilted Alexander’s head up to check his eyes. “Ah, shit,” she mumbled.

Burr, who was walking past with his arms filled with papers, asked, “Did you just swear?”, the surprise evident in his tone.

“Alexander just fainted, I think it’s warranted,” she snapped.

“Alex!” he exclaimed, dropping to his knees by the chair. Marie raised an eyebrow, wondering when Burr began to call him Alex. “What happened? Is he having his revelation?” Marie sighed. “Calm down. No, his revelation would be incredibly dramatic and loud. He realised that we’re basically repeating the election that indirectly got him killed.” “Ah. Right.”

“Go get Eliza,” she ordered, pointing towards the Schuyler sisters. “You’re not going to help in this scenario.”

Sighing, Burr trudged off to get Eliza.

* * *

When Alexander awoke, he demanded to see Burr, which Marie was taken aback by, but Eliza expected.

“Alexander,” he greeted, unsure.

“Promise you won’t shoot me.”

Rather shocked, Burr spluttered out, “O-o-o-of course not!” Calming down, he added, “I’d have a hard time getting my hands on a gun at this age.”

“Burr…” he complained jokingly.

“I won’t, Alexander, I swear!” he blustered. “I would never.”

“After all, you have to wait for history to repeat the Reynolds affair,” Marie mumbled. Alexander punched her jokingly.

“Oh, shut up," he snapped.

Burr sat down on the arm of the chair and rested a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "I would never, Alexander, I swear on my life. Never again."

* * *

“Marquis! Marquis!” Marie sang. "Lafayette!"

“What is it you would like to show me?” he asked, standing up and looking over.

“Look! I’ve plotted us destinations all over New York!”

“Oui! Mon ami, that is - how you say? - awesome!” he exclaimed. “Where?”

“Obviously the Alexander Hamilton House that you can tour around, as well as the National Bank, the Washington Monument, the Empire State, the-“

“Calm down,” Lafayette laughed. “I would love to see the Washington monument.”

“Oh, and when we can, we need to see Mount Rushmore!” she added frantically, pencilling onto her list.

“We need to see what?” Lafayette asked. “You are a very fast speaker, Marie.”

She giggled maliciously. “Okay, it’s this big-massive carving done into the side of a mountain, right? And you’ll recognise two of the people, but not the other two.”

Excitedly, Marie tapped something into her I-Pad, holding it out for Lafayette to see.

“Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed faintly. “Do not show this to Thomas: ‘is ego iz so big I can almost watch it grow.”

Marie laughed and whirled around in a circle. “Wanna show anyone else?”

“Alexandre,” he decided.

* * *

Alexander didn’t quite understand what he was being shown until Marie explained. He was staring at Washington’s carved face in absolute awe, until he noticed Jefferson’s face peering over Washington’s shoulder… he shrieked.

Marie and Lafayette burst out laughing together, catching the attention of the ‘British Authors’, as people referred to them.

Jane and William were in the middle of dissecting everything about Arthur’s novels, fleshing out each point and making theories. When they heard the horrified shriek, they looked over.

“What’ve you done now?” Jane asked.

Marie and Lafayette exchanged eye contact and burst out laughing again.


	6. Laurens and Eliza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens is being ignored by Alexander and it's driving him crazy. He and Eliza come to an agreement, only for their newfound close friendship to raise some awkward questions.

“I don’t understand!” Laurens exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “I was closer to him than anybody else here – save Eliza, of course – but he won’t talk to me! He’ll take my orders because he’s below me; I appointed him as my second, as your partner, I could talk to him! But no, all I get is passing greetings.”

Marie turned her head to him, interested. “You know, John, I think that’s exactly your problem.”

“What’s my problem?” he snapped. “What’s my problem?”

Realising Laurens was on the cusp of causing a scene in the library, Jane shot a look of apology at Marie as she voiced her theory. “Your problem is how close you were to Alexander. You two were so close that you open a door into his past life that he doesn’t want to think about.” While she spoke, she twirled her pen around her fingers, scattering freckles of ink over her face and Marie’s forearm.

“So what?” Laurens asked, out of ideas and just wanting to have everything back to the way it was. He sounded totally defeated, the anxiety and pure exhaustion evident in his voice. The niggling doubt that Alexander hated him gnawed at his gut and consumed him with utter helplessness. It had been eating at him for weeks, the constant feeling of sinking, his head only just above the water.

“What do I do?”

“You wait,” Marie and Jane replied.

“No!” Laurens blurted, holding out a hand.

“You wait,” Jane repeated more forcefully, gripping onto his wrist and pushing it down onto the table. Laurens curled his hand into a fist and glared at the wall. He wasn’t cut out for waiting – he had already waited for too long.

* * *

 

“Burr.”

“Laurens.”

Laurens lifted his head and stared Burr in the eyes. “What is it?”

“You’re waiting,” Burr replied simply. “I can tell.”

“How can you tell, exactly?” Laurens asked, struggling to keep his voice even. In a movement of defence, he folded his arms over his chest, hunching his shoulders and closing himself in.

“You’re waiting for Alexander to make a move,” Burr continued, evading the question expertly. His eyes glimmered with knowing, which infuriated Laurens: Burr knew something about him that even he didn’t know. “You’ve been waiting for weeks.”

“So what if I am?” Laurens spat, squaring his shoulders and tightening his lips.

The ghost of a smile lingered on Burr’s face. “Waiting doesn’t suit you, Laurens. Neither does hostility. Try being who you were before – that’s the version of you Alexander was drawn to, after all.”

He unfolded his arms and clenched his fists by his sides, his glare softening the tiniest bit. “I just might try that, Burr.”

* * *

 

“He’s such an amazing person, Angie, but he’s done something unforgivable,” Eliza explained to her sisters. “But the crimes he committed are legal now – accepted, even.”

Angelica and Peggy exchanged a look, pursing their lips and making a silent agreement:  _If our sister doesn’t sort this out, we will._

“He kept Alexander sane when I couldn’t,” Eliza continued. “He was sorely missed at our wedding. Alexander was never the same after he died.”

“Sorely missed at the wedding, huh?” Angelica half-smiled, looking off to the side as she remembered something.

_There was a get-together at the Hamilton household and John Laurens was there, giving a heartwarming speech to make up for the one he was unable to give at the wedding. Later on, the Hamiltons were sharing a dance, whirling each other around the room and smiling wide. Angelica opened another bottle of wine and poured herself a glass._

_“Would you pour one for me?” Laurens asked, ambling over._

_“This is your sixth glass,” Angelica pointed out, though she obliged to his wishes._

_“I need it to get through tonight,” he explained vaguely, waving a hand. Angelica caught his not-so subtle glance towards Hamilton._

_“You too, huh?”_

_He looked down into his drink, taking a long sip. “I don’t know what you could possibly mean, Miss Church.”_

“Yeah, Alexander was quite mellowed, though he didn’t show it,” Eliza sighed, dreamily looking off into the distance. “He hasn’t really said anything on the matter since he broke it to us, has he?”

“Not at all,” Peggy agreed. “He’s been quite… shut off.”

“I’m going to talk to him,” Eliza decided, looking over to him reviewing the destinations for the trip to New York, Marie sitting on the table googling the destinations for him to look at.

“Don’t kill him, will you?” Angelica asked warily.

“No, I won’t,” Eliza assured her. “That’s more Peggy’s style.” 

* * *

 

 

“John!” she called out. “John!”

Snapping his head up sharply, he gaped at Eliza in shock. She was  _willingly_  speaking to him. “Eliza?”

Marie swung her legs off the table and jumped off, shooting a mischievous grin at Laurens. “Good luck.”

“What is it?” Laurens asked, swallowing the fear bubbling in his throat.

“You love our Alexander, don’t you?” Eliza asked softly.

Taken aback by the question, Laurens nodded shyly. “More than anything.”

“Well, I love him too,” Eliza began, as if it wasn’t obvious already. “I love him more than I could describe.”

“He loves you too, ‘Liza,” Laurens added quickly, reaching out a hand across the table and splaying it out on the wood. “He would never stop talking about you. Even now, I’m sure that  – no, I  _know_ that  –  he’s absolutely in love.”

“But he also loves you,” Eliza assured him, putting her hand onto Laurens’. “He couldn’t care for you more.”

Laurens smiled sadly, looking down to avoid eye contact. Though a deep sadness rooted itself in his mind, he knew that he couldn’t take away the wonderful like that Eliza had built up with Alexander. He had no right to take it away. “I would forfeit my own happiness to see Alexander happy with you.” With each word, a feeling of helpless regret seeped into his bones, making him feel like he was grasping at thin branches on a tree to stop himself falling. Soon, one would snap.

“But he couldn’t be happy without you,” Eliza pointed out. “When he was with the both of us, wasn’t he content?”

“I… I suppose he was,” Laurens mused, looking out of the window in thought.

“You know, Laurens, that’s something we could try,” Eliza suggested gently.

Laurens looked shocked, scandalised. “Three? ‘Liza, what in the world are you suggesting?”

“Both of us love him, and he loves both of us,” Eliza explained, as if it were simple. “We could be friends – good friends. We could work around any obstacles. We could both be in love with Alex. Plus, it takes two people to keep our Alex sane, does it not?”

“Three isn’t normal,” he protested, not really knowing why he was opposing it apart from his internalised ideals.

Eliza laughed, a high, happy sound like wind chimes. Alexander had always described it as such in letters. “Nothing about this is normal, John! We’re reincarnated historical figures in gay relationships fixing how the world works!

So what if it isn’t normal?!”

Laurens smiled. A real, genuine smile, his first in weeks. All the anxiety trickled away as he realised that  _it could work_. Relief flooded his senses and he relaxed in his chair, dropping his shoulders and falling back against the headrest, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “That could work, ‘Liza. It just could work.”

Excitedly, with a childish energy Laurens had never seen before, she grabbed his hands in hers and grinned from ear to ear. “We were the only ones stopping this from happening, I was the one closing you off from the others, so we need to get you integrated back into the group!”

“I’d like that, Eliza.”

* * *

 

Everybody could feel that the unspoken barrier between Laurens and Eliza was no longer there. Eliza was pulling Laurens loosely by his hand towards their group, Laurens looking apprehensive and Eliza full of confidence. “Alexander!” she called out cheerfully, bouncing on the sofa, Laurens sitting beside her. “Come over here!”

Laurens steeled up and looked at her in alarm, but she continued regardless.

“What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Can’t I talk to my favourite husband?” she teased.

Nervously looking at Laurens, he sat next to him, as Eliza was right next to the arm of the chair.

“I saw your route plan,” Eliza began. “It’s excellent!”

“Thank Laurens, really!” Alexander blustered, red in the face.

Laurens hunched his shoulders to protect himself.

Peggy waved a hand and called Eliza over, shouting, “Lizzie, look at this! It’s the  _coolest_  thing I’ve ever seen!”

_Perfect timing_ , she thought, mouthing ‘good luck’ at Laurens and bounding off across the room.

“You really did well to get Eliza by your side, you know,” Laurens commented softly. “She’s a character.”

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Alexander agreed.

Shaking his head, Laurens looked over at Alexander. “Oh my god. You’re in love with her.”

Two two of them, Alexander and Eliza, had agreed to start fresh with their relationship: in other words, break up. They saw each other as friends, or so Laurens thought.

“I am not!” he exclaimed indignantly.

Rolling his eyes, Laurens retorted, “Yes you are, it’s as clear as day.”

Sighing, Alexander admitted defeat. “Okay, maybe I am. Why is it anything new? I always have been in love with her.”

“You’re enamoured,” Laurens teased, elbowing him in the side. “I totally get it, though.”

“Do you have a crush on my wife?” Alexander accused jokingly.

John sighed in exasperation. “Alexander, I am  _gay_.”

“I figured that out,” he snorted, making Laurens’ blush.  _He should not be able to joke about that so easily,_  he thought sadly.  _Maybe it’s all a joke to him._

Eliza waved him over and he jumped at the chance to get away, practically running across the room.

* * *

 

Marie, who had been watching the whole scene curiously while leaning on the back of Burr’s armchair, standing on a couple of thick books to see over, made her way over to Alexander.

“So, who are you with now?” she asked, a curious look on her face.

“What do you mean? I’m with everybody,” Alexander said, confused.

“I meant who are you dating now? Laurens or Eliza?” she continued, cocking her head.

“W-what?” Alexander stuttered back. He took a step back, quite surprised at the question, before responding, “We don’t have time for that right now, we need to work on the, stuff, or something,” Alexander was clearly speechless, a thing that rarely happened. Last time he was, Burr and him had been arguing on a matter which he lost after Burr took his argument to pieces with the most brilliant tactics, leaving him speechless and everybody else laughing.

He rushed out of the room when he realised he was beginning to mumble, something he prided himself on  _never_  doing, leaving the small girl staring after him, her head cocked in a silent question. Burr just sighed. “Marie, you shouldn’t pester people with questions like that, especially Alexander. It’s very rude.”

“Oh?” she challenged, folding her arms over her chest and looking up at him, though it was hard to take her seriously when she was almost two feet shorter than him. “Why do you,  _Aaron Burr_ , care about his feelings?”

He raised his eyebrows at her, wondering why she was bothering fighting a losing battle.

“Don’t tell me you wanted him to say he was dating  _you_!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Burr rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Marie, that’s ridiculous.”

“You  _totally_  did!” she continued, a cocky grin on her face.

Jane wandered over, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Hey! I’m looking for something to write this essay on, do you have any ideas? It has to be a modern issue, by the way!” she added quickly.

“Polyamory?” Marie suggested, raising both eyebrows, as she couldn’t raise just one. “That’s a good modern social issue.”

Frantically, Burr shook his head at her, but Jane was looking down and couldn’t see what he was doing. “Fantastic idea!” she congratulated. “I should look into this! Thanks Marie!”

She smirked at Burr, who sighed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not until the vote,” she shrugged, sitting down in her usual seat and opening her book: Pride and Prejudice.

* * *

 

“Who  _am_  I dating?” Alexander asked the ceiling of his office, leaning back in his chair, unable to focus on his essay. Marie’s supposedly innocent question had sent his head reeling and he couldn’t quite think straight. “Neither of them, at the moment.”

He sighed and ran his hands down his face. “Why was it so easy to manage the affair? Why did it seem so natural?” Picking up his fountain pen, he began to write, writing down what he was thinking, wondering how he could fix it. For once, he didn’t know what to do. For once, Alexander Hamilton was utterly helpless.


	7. The Greatest City In The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being cooped up in the Administration for weeks on end, the genii decide that they need to get out - see the city, see what they had created. And what better place to start than a school? Unfortunately, they might get more than they bargained for, as four familiar faces refuse to let them let go of the past.

Laurens was sitting around a table with his seconds, Marie and Alexander, trying to figure out where in New York they would go first. Marie was adamant that they visit the Empire State building first, while Alexander insisted on the National Bank. They continued to bicker and eventually Laurens gave up and threw his pencil down to the floor out of frustration. “Right, we need an easier way to solve this. Which one of us is most fascinated by American culture?”

"Easy, me. America has interested me ever since I heard of the country." Marie claimed. Alexander scoffed.

"You? I say I'm very interested to see how the seeds I've sown have grown." Alexander argued

“Oh come on! The Empire State is-”

"Enough! I meant a person other than you guys." John grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I mean-"

"Well, there's-"

“Lafayette,” they said together.

"You called?" He appeared suddenly, making Alex jump.

“Laaaaaaaaaf,” Marie whined, drawing out his name for an impossibly long amount of time before she ran out of breath and had to gasp for air.

“Where would you like to go in New York?” Laurens asked immediately, as Marie was still spluttering.

“A school!” he replied instantly. “I would love to see how the education system works here!”

The three of them turned to each other and shrugged. It was a manageable start to test their organisation skills. All they needed was a good lie and some fake names. They eventually agreed, after more arguing, that they would be a group of kids from out of New York looking for a better school.

After several awkward phone calls to the school, they made their way through the woods outside of the house and into the bustling modern streets of New York city.

"I'm so excited!" squealed Laf.

"Calm down, Laf. We're doing this for a reason," Jane reminded him, stern as always.

"Their voices were very familiar," Burr muttered out.

Alex nodded in agreement. "Very. I wonder who they are."

* * *

 

“How was student council, Dolley, Theo?” a girl dressed in red asked the older looking girls, pulling on her backpack.

Dolley and Theodosia shrugged simultaneously, making Herc chuckle. “You guys always shrug! Come on, student council has to have some interesting things things to say.”

The girl in green, Dolley shrugged again. “Not much, we have a group of students touring around – claiming that they're from outside of New York and looking for a better school around their new residence. I didn't even know we allow touring!"

“Peculiar, aren't they?” Theo mused, making Dolley laugh.

“She said that. Out loud. During the meeting.”

“No one apart from Samuel and Charlie heard me!” she protested. “Anyways, they said they’re going to come around to the ‘least troublesome’ classes… as ‘least troublesome’ is practically our branding, we’re going to be under scrutiny all day.” she groaned.

Herc and Maria groaned too simultaneously. “Great.”

“At least they’re around our age!” Dolley exclaimed. “Possible new friends, right?”

“You’re too optimistic,” Theo criticised, picking up her backpack.

"I'm just - well -  it's nice to think that we can have friends who we've never met in our past lives, don't you think?"

All four sighed in agreement. It would be nice, that's for sure.

* * *

 

Maria was trying to ignore the small girl's constant scrutinising over her work despite Dolley was constantly pointing out how similar they both looked.  The girl in yellow cocked her head, then giggled. “I’ll take that as a compliment because you’re very pretty.” 

She blinked in shock at the girl’s very forward mannerisms as Dolley stifled a laugh. A hand reached out and snatched the girl back by the collar. She was face-to-face with a much taller boy with darker skin and short, clipped hair. He was dressed smartly in a shirt and slacks and looked like the leader of the group. “Tone down the old-fashioned mannerisms,  _ Margaret _ ,” he ordered, slightly exasperated. “You could not be more obvious.”

She scowled and rolled her eyes, “Yes, boss.” she sarcastically said, turning around on her heel and walked off, leaving Maria and Dolley dumbfounded

Herc was talking with another boy of the group who was walking around, the one wearing a beanie and a blue SaltRock hoodie. He was fascinated by Herc’s project on slavery and pulled another boy over to look at it, a boy with shaggy, dark hair and violet blue eyes, a notebook tucked under his arm tightly. 

“What’re your names, anyway?” Herc asked, wanting to know more about the pair, as they were acting incredibly strange. He felt like he knew them all too well, despite never having seen their faces before.

“Jon Law,” the first boy introduced, biting his lip and looking around nervously.

“Alex Hamils,” the second boy introduced himself, running a hand through his hair. Herc raised an eyebrow.

“Hercules Monaghan,” he replied simply, shaking his head and chuckling when he saw their shocked expressions. “I know, right? It’s an awful name, my parents didn't know of the Disney film or the embarrassment they're gonna give me.”

The two boys traded each other weird look, both muttering 'no way' under their breaths, not knowing that Herc could hear them.

“Are you okay?” Herc asked, worried and crossed his arms.

“Y-yeah,” the first boy blustered. “I have to go and talk to my… to my friend there.” He pointed to a couple of other kids before hurriedly walking off with the second boy, Alex.

Herc pulled out his phone from under the table.

**daughtersandhorses:** look over to the back, you see the two short students by the propaganda display?

**pretty-doll:** Yeah, why?

**daughtersandhorses:** do you recognise either of them? the eyes of the taller one?

**SayYesToThis:** O.O 

**dear-theodosia:** who is it?

**daughtersandhorses:** i used to house with him before

**pretty-doll:** Before? As in… ‘before this life’ before?

**dear-theodosia:** oh. my. god.

**pretty-doll:** Hamilton.

**SayYesToThis:** who’s the short one?

**daughtersandhorses:** guess

**dear-theodosia:** john laurens? no way

Dolley’s eyes flitted around the room, instantly landing on three of the ‘visitors’ that John had ran off to. Three girls dressed in yellow, pink and blue. They were no doubt the Schuyler sisters, or now the 'Sky' sisters. She elbowed Maria and pointed, letting her figure it out for herself. Taking a deep breath her gaze followed Dolley's finger to the group. Maria then focused her eyes on the girl in the baby blue jumper and dark blue jeans, her arms beginning to shake. She was in the same room as Elizabeth Schuyler, and she was terrified.

Theodosia looked over to the essays displayed on the wall, to the two boys discussing the meanings behind them. One of them stood tall and proud while the other hunched over, sickly. Madison and Jefferson? She didn’t point it out to Dolley, but she kept an eye on them, waiting for one of the two to notice one of them.

Maria tore her eyes away from them, turning and smiling at the boy looking over her shoulder at her work. He paid no attention to the gesture, walking off and speaking to a small, curious-looking girl with a yellow jumper. Hearing the accent, she placed him instantly as the Marquis de Lafayette.

Herc felt a gaze on him and looked to one of the visitors: he was tall, with black skin and a serious expression on his face. In response to the boy from before, Alex, asking him a question, he sighed, shook his head, and said, “Wait for it.” He breathed in sharply. Burr. Oh god, he never knew he'd miss him but he did.

“That was the lamest fucking excuse ever!” Alexander hissed to John as they were left by presumably Burr, whom they'd been talking to.

“Oh, come on, at least I said something!” John shot back, before chuckling. “I’m only joking, you know, ya nuthead.”

“I know,” Alexander huffed in reply, before grabbing a tall foreign looking guy roughly by the arm and pulling him away from his conversation with a girl dressed all in scarlet red. “Laf!”

“You mean Gilbert, non?” he corrected.

“Ah, right, yes,” Alexander blustered. “Anyway, this kid over here is fucking Hercules Mulligan.”

“Non, impossible,” Lafayette dismissed, waving a hand. “I mean, I wish he was, but it iz impossible.”

Cutting off the two of them before they could speak again, Jefferson stumbled over to the duo. "What do you want, Tom?" Alex scowled.

Thomas rolled his eyes and ignored him, “I know I would rather jump off the Empire State than talk to you, Alex, but look over there and tell me that the girl in green isn’t Dolley Madison.” he pointed to the said girl.

Lafayette and Laurens traded confused looks and looked back at Alexander, who was studying her discreetly. “That’s Dolley Madison, no doubt about it.” He turned to Lafayette, grinning smugly. “See, so that boy over there could be Herc!”

“Hercules Mulligan?” he asked, looking over to where Laurens was gesturing.

Before they could respond, there was a strangled gasp and a shout of “James!”

Madison, who had been intently looking at the student Jefferson thought was Dolley, had suddenly dropped into a dead faint, crumbling to the floor. Jefferson rushed over to where Madison was sitting up, muttering nonsensically in a heavy Southern accent. Students were peering over the backs of their chairs to see what had happened. “He’s very sickly,” Jefferson lied through his teeth. “I’ll take him outside, where it’s quieter.” Thomas placed one of James' arm around his shoulder and walked out.

Eliza ran over to the two of them, Burr making his way over too. “She’s Dolley Madison!” she exclaimed in hushed tones.

Burr stepped forward. “Dolley Madison?” he asked quietly.

They nodded and Burr’s eyes narrowed. “I was a lawyer to somebody who looks incredibly like one of these students…”

“Who?” Laurens asked, but Alexander’s eyes were locked onto the girl sitting beside Dolley, both of them whispering and pointing around the room.

“Maria.”

* * *

 

When the bell rang for break, Eliza approached her former husband.

"Alexander, will you please introduce me to Maria. Pretty please?" She practically begged him, pointing to Maria who was sitting alone on a bench, listening to them discreetly through her earphones, which weren’t playing music. 

Alexander coughed awkwardly, looking away from the girl in scarlet red. She was beautiful as always, he thought, but more out of respect. rather than lustfully like once before, though Maria chose to not even glance at Alexander and Eliza. He couldn't blame her for that.

“You go,” Alexander insisted. Eliza huffed, annoyed, but walked over to the bench anyways.

“Elizabeth Schuyler,” she introduced quite happily, her eyes bright.

“Maria Lewiston, once Maria Lewis,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground.

“Nice to meet you, Maria. I’ve been told so much about you!” Eliza held out her hand for her to shake. She pulled it back in slight dismay after a short while when the scarlet girl didn’t accept the handshake. “I understand. It must be nerve-wracking when we decided to talk with you so suddenly. I apologise.” Eliza said with a small smile.

Maria got impatient. Whatever Eliza wanted to say to her, it couldn’t be good. She was her former husband’s mistress, and if she was in Eliza’s position, it wouldn’t end well. But they were two different people after all.

“I just wanted to say that it wasn’t your fault,” the older girl began as she took a deep breath before stopping. Maria stared in shock. What did she say again?

Eliza continued, “It was your former husband’s fault for forcing you and Alex’s fault for throwing you under the bus. I couldn’t begin to imagine the things that have happened to you while also a mother of one. I deeply regret my husband’s mistakes and apologize on his behalf." She looked at Maria solemnly, regret on her face.

"Why can’t he apologise himself than sending out his girlfriend?” Maria spat out the words before realising what she said. Eliza was trying to be nice and she’s ruining it. Now she’s done it.

Eliza took a deep breath before continuing again. “You know Alex. He has a big ego. But I know he regrets what he did to you, he just can’t say it aloud.” She chuckled slightly to herself

Maria did know Alex a bit, even if she was just his mistress, his fun on the side. She had once loved that bastard of a man before though hard to admit or believe. She thought he could’ve at least helped her find a way out than accusing her of everything. She had looked up to see Eliza’s face to see it gradually changed to a mixed expression, one that she can’t decipher. She wondered why she had that expression before noticing her own mouth moving and her hands shifting about. Much to her horror, she realised she had been talking the entire time.

“I’m sorry he accused you of everything, I really am,” Eliza whispered, taking Maria’s hands in her own. “He’s trying to fix things now, even if it isn’t turning out right. I’m sure he could put things aside to fix what he did to you.”

Maria shrugged sadly. “It’s not nice to be a girl on the side.”

Eliza stifled a laugh. “You would get along brilliantly with Laurens.”

“What do we have in common?” she asked, interested, trying not to glance over Eliza’s shoulder to where Laurens and Alexander were leaning on the wall, talking, the conversation awkward and rocky.

“You were both ‘girls on the side’,” Eliza replied, straightening up and smiling slightly. “Want to come over?”

Maria raised an eyebrow at that, but ignored it for later. Nervously, Maria stood face-to-face with Alexander Hamilton, the man that helped destroy her life without realising it.

She was the first to make eye contact.

He was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry, Maria. God, I’m sorry. I did the worst things imaginable and turned all the blame onto you. I can’t even begin to imagine how much you struggled with the weight of what I did to you, even in this new life. Oh, I-”

Forcefully, Maria grabbed his wrists. “Stop talking, Alexander. Just stop. I don’t know if I can ever accept your apology fully, not after what you put me through, all the pain. But, if you’re apologising, especially in the way you did, with so much emotion, you must mean it. So I suppose that I forgive you, at least a little.” Alexander took a breath, so she began to speak again, before he could. “And I have somebody I would like you to meet.”

She turned her back on her heels and ran towards the cafeteria, smacking shoulders with someone much taller than her on the way out. “I am so sorry!” the boy exclaimed. “Have you seen – erm – my friends Alex Hamils and Jon Law?”

Rolling her eyes at his use of their ‘public’ names, she pointed over towards where they were. “Hamilton and Laurens are over there,” she told him, running off and leaving him in shock that she had discovered them.

Maria came back with her friend in tow: a tall, bulky boy with black skin and short, curly hair, a bandana tied around his head. Sticking her chin in the air, Maria waved a hand towards the supposed Marquis de Lafayette, who clearly had everything explained to him by Eliza, Alex and John.

“Hercules Mulligan, meet Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, and the Marquis de Lafayette.”

In a flurry of movement, the three boys had attacked Herc in a hug, almost knocking him to the ground. The two girls caught words of “So difficult-“ and “Missed you so much-“ Both girls were looking at the boys, smiling at their reunion.

Laurens and Alexander were almost invisible in the hug but, when they pulled away, Lafayette stayed hugging him, and Alexander knew exactly why. Lafayette’s visit to America had missed Mulligan’s death by only a few months, leaving Lafayette feeling cheated that he couldn’t see him one last time. After touring around 24 states in America, he had arrived in New York ready to greet his friend with open arms, only to be informed of his death and break down with only Thomas Jefferson by his side.

Laurens finally took in what was happening, as if he was the one reuniting with Lafayette. His hand, which was resting on Alexander’s forearm, shook the slightest bit. He breathed in sharply and gripped the fabric of Alexander’s sleeve in his fist. He was frozen still, but his mind was reeling. 

"John?"

* * *

 

Burr grumbled under his breath, muttering something about how Alex and John were hallucinating and such. He turned and looked around for Marie when his eye caught on somebody across from him. A girl.

One look at her and he feels a sharp pain in his heart, but he doesn't know why. He's never seen her before, he would've remembered her. 

Burr only realised he had been staring when a finger poked his cheek. He turned to see a short brunette girl smirking at him.

"Aaron Burr, Sir, do you have a crush?" Marie asked, a cheeky smile on her face. She was holding onto her skirt and swinging back and forth with innocent puppy eyes, as if she wasn't trying to be exceedingly annoying. His only reply was a huff of annoyance. He was about to walk away, but a hand caught him.

"Excuse me, Aaron Burr?" 

He turned to the person who had held back his arm to see the girl from before looking back at him with shining wide eyes. One glimpse and he knew who she was.

"Theo?"

She smiled and proceeded to hug Burr tightly, and he returned the hug, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Oh I can't believe it's you, my dear Aaron! Oh how I missed you dearly." The woman presumably Theodosia, spoke, old-fashioned mannerisms showing through.

He pulled back from the hug, "You don't how much I've missed you too, Theodosia dear," he said, both hands slipping through hers. 

"We have so much to catch on now. I heard you were quite disastrous without me to keep an eye on you," Theo chuckled. Aaron rolled his eyes but chuckled too. The sweet moment was then interrupted by a cough from Marie.

"Sorry to interrupt a reunion, but she's Theodosia Prevost Burr, right? Your former wife?" She was innocently swaying back and forth with her hands behind her back, the skirt of her blue dress swishing around and a smile on her face that was somewhere between shy and knowing.

"How'd you know that?" 

"I read up on you, out of pure curiosity of course.”

"Creep,” Burr mumbled, earning a giggle from Theo and an eye roll from Marie.

"There's a table over there we can continue chatting at," Theo suggested, "then you can introduce us both."

Burr and Marie nodded in agreement and strode over to the table Theo was gesturing at.

“So, who are you?” she asked pleasantly at Marie

“Theodosia, meet Marie Curie, a reincarnated radioactivity scientist,” he introduced, gesturing to Marie. “She won the Nobel Prize in 1903 and 1911.”

She tossed her hair back and stuck her chin up in the air proudly. “At your service.” Before Burr could introduce her to Theo, she pointed at him. “And  _ this _ , Miss Theodosia Bartow, is your husband who shot his best friend.”

“Best friend?” Burr muttered. “Since  _ when _ ?”

Marie tried not to snort. “Pfft, since forever! You guys are totally besties.”

Theo smiled at their antics. They would've been mistaken for siblings to the eyes of strangers. Or father and daughter. She pushed that thought away. 

_ Nonsense. It's a time to be happy. Let's try not to remember the past, Theo. You can't change it. _

But, oh, how hard it was to forget old times when they're all laughing together like this.


	8. A Flashback to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Madison is eager to befriend Dorothy Pane after his revelation, but Thomas will do anything to stop them coming together once again. While he tries to keep James all to himself, the other genii have the problem of Laurens' revelation on their hands. After all, John's eyes were set on Alexander for much of his life in the war, but they would be set on him in quite a different way during his revelation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!

James’ eyes flitted open to see greenery and a wide, open field. Confused, he wondered where he was and looked around. He saw Thomas beside him, busy on his mobile phone, unaware that he was awake.

“Hey,” James said and nudged his elbow.   
Thomas must've been very concentrated on what's happening on his device because jumped at the sudden movement. He eased when he saw that it was only James.

“Oh, you're awake? What happened when you were out?” Thomas asked.

James frowned, as he was about to ask that himself but then remembered. The wave of memories that came to him when he saw-

“Dolley? Dolley's here?” he hastily asked Thomas.

Thomas looked back down at his phone then shrugged, “I don't know, maybe.”

James scowled at his response and proceeded to grab Thomas’ shoulders, making the latter look at him straight in the eyes, “Thomas, tell me. Is Dolley here?” he repeated the question slowly.

“Oh, did I interrupt something?” A voice asked.

James and Thomas turned their heads towards the source of the voice, a girl in green. They both shake their heads.

“Are you sure? You guys looked pretty busy just now,” she pointed out and giggled.

They looked at themselves. James was leaning in on Thomas, holding his shoulders with their faces quite close to each other. Their faces flushed and both backed away, embarrassed to be seen like that even though they knew nothing happened.

“So I'm guessing that really was a no,” the girl assumed and plopped herself down between the two. James looked at her, really examined the stranger. She had ivory/ebony(?) skin sprinkled with freckles, sharp features and a cascade of raven hair flowing down her back. She was breathtaking.

The stranger then looks over to James and held out a hand for him to shake in which he accepted.

"The name's Dorothy Pane, but most people call me Dolley. For some reason," she murmured out the last sentence. She looked at Thomas and shook his hand too.

"I have a question. How come I've never heard that my former husband and his best friend were reincarnated?" She asked curiously. Thomas and James exchanged each other looks of worry, which Dolley giggles at.

"Don't worry, only a few other people know about you guys. We promise won't tell anyone else."

"A few other people? Who might they be?" James asked, skeptical. How did she found out about them?

"They're reincarnations too!" James breathed a sigh of relief, "Did you guys know of Hercules Mulligan, Theodosia Bartow and Maria Lewis back in the day?"

"Mulligan was Hamilton's friend, Theodosia was Aaron's wife and Maria was the whore Hamilton cheated with," Thomas said. Dolley scowled at his last sentence.

"Maria is so much more than a whore! I'll let you know if that asshole Hamilton hadn't written the pamphlet she would've lived a better life!" Dolley snapped at Thomas. She looked back at James then grabbed his arm, pulling him up with her.

"I'll give you a tour around and we can chat while at it, if you want to," she offered. James smiled and nodded. She returned the smile and walked away arm-in-arm with James.

"What about me?" Thomas looked at them and called out. Dolley turned her head around and stuck her tongue out and continued on.

* * *

 

John gasped sharply as the revelation hit him, his hands shaking violently, gripping into Alexander’s sleeve as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. His breath came in quick, short gasps and then stopped all together. His eyes were wet with tears and his pupils blown wide in shock, then they closed altogether. His mind had simply given up.

Alexander’s arms were around him in an instant, stopping him before he hit the ground. “John, John!”

_John closed his eyes, and he was on the battlefields in 1782 once more. The once-frozen ground had been trampled into a boggy mess and blood splattered his horses back. Blood? It couldn’t be blood, he had broken away from the battalion a while ago… It was his blood. In a flurry of movement, he was winded, all the air pushed from his lungs as he was flung off his horse's back and into the sticky mud. The cold seeped into his bones and the pain shot through his body like lightning until he was so stiff from the cold he couldn’t feel it anymore. For hours upon hours, he drifted in and out of consciousness until he opened his eyes one last time. Alex was leaning over him. Alex!_

_“Alex…” he croaked, reaching out a hand towards him._

_The ghostly Alex chuckled, smiling and reaching out towards him. “John…” he breathed, saying his name like a spell, like magic. “John… John…”_

* * *

 

“John!”

John took in a sharp breath, feeling the dirt and mud and blood of the battlefield for just one second, before realising where he was. _Who_ he was. “Alexander!” he gasped, choking on his breath and grasping at thin air, trying to reach out to where he heard Alexander’s voice.

Reaching forward, Alexander took John’s hands in his own, trying to stop him thrashing around. “John! Please, it’s me, Alexander!”

No words said got through to John, who was still thrashing around despite Alex’s attempts. A crowd began to form around them, curious to see what was happening. Maria and Herc exchanged a confused look while Lafayette wanted to reach out to his friend, but didn’t want to overwhelm him.

Eliza scowled at the crowd and pushed through them, before crouching down beside John and rubbed circles into his shoulders, whispering soft, comforting words into his ear. Alex watched in amazement when John began to slow down before stopping completely and opened his eyes to see his friends. Weak, he reached out towards Alexander before falling slack in Eliza’s arms.

“Nurses office?” Maria asked eventually.

Herc picked him up in his arms and began to walk, while Alexander snapped at the gawking students to move. After they all went away, he hugged Eliza tightly.

“Thank you Betsey, for helping John. I didn't know what to do but thank gosh you were here,” he mutters in her ear. She simply nodded in reply, then kissed Alexander’s cheek before pulling back.

A familiar voice piped up.“What just happened! What'd I miss?”

Alexander winced at the memory of Jefferson coming back from France 200 or so years ago. He looked at the owner of the voice - Marie- and noticed she was with Burr and, another girl? She was linking arms with Burr, a worried look on her face.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked at Burr. “Say, Burr, did you score yourself a woman?” Eliza elbowed his ribs at that before introducing herself and Alexander to the mystery girl.

“Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Elly Sky and this is my hus-, _boyfriend_ , Alex Hamils.” she said softly, smiling at the stranger while Alexander nodded to confirm. The stranger smiled.

“Theodosia Bart. Say, I’ve heard so much of your noble achievements, Miss Schuyler.” Eliza and Alex’s eyes widened in surprise when she said that. Burr laughed, a small genuine laugh that he has yet to give anybody he knew at the mansion.

Burr straightened up and said,“Yes, this is formerly Theodosia Bartow, my first wife and-”

“Ah, Theodosia!” Eliza exclaimed, her eyes brightening.

Alexander smiled awkwardly. “Theodosia. Nice to meet you again.”

She laughed and hugged Burr with one arm. “You too, Alexander.”

His eyes widened. “John! We need to see him!”

“Laurens?” Burr asked, confused.

“Revelation,” Eliza said shortly, turning and dashing off, Alex in tow.

* * *

 

Alex and Eliza were kneeling at his bedside in the medical room, staring at his pale and drawn face in worry. They were joined by Maria, Angelica, Peggy, Burr and Marie, who were all chatting quietly in another corner of the room. Alexander shook his shoulder and Eliza immediately pulled his hand back. “No, give him time Alexander!”

“I'm just worried. What if he never wakes up? What if he leaves me again?” He replied, agitated. Eliza sighed and pulled his head onto her lap and whispered comforting words, softly patting his hair down.

“He won’t leave us,” she replied softly. “He never would.”

John bolted upright all of a sudden, looking around wildly. Alexander gasped and sat up on is knees. “Jo-”

He didn’t get time to finish speaking. John pulled back his fist and punched Alexander straight in the face. He flew out of his seat and grabbed Alexander by the collar and shoved him up against the wall. “Congratulations, you little-”

Alexander wrestled out of his hold, though every time be moved he cut off his breathing a little more. “Laurens, please…” he gasped, twisting his neck side to side. “Let… go!”

Without warning, John let go, Alexander slumping to the ground. He flinched, as if being hit.

_“No son of mine will oppose me.”_

_“Get out - get out and never come back.”_

_“In love with another man? Disgusting, Jack. If I had my way I would have you dead.”_

“NO!” He sank to his knees, covering his ears.

Nobody moved. Whatever he was reliving, they would be of no use. Except Marie. She rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of him, fixing her hands on his shoulders. “Hey, hey, Laurens! Whatever it is, it’s gone now! Long gone! You’re safe with us - me and Jane and Peggy and Angelica and Eliza and Alexander and Burr and everybody else! Come on, Laurens, come on…”

Finally, his head snapped up and he stared through Marie, as if looking at somebody that wasn’t there. Mumbling things that nobody but Marie, who was right in front of him, could hear. After realising what he was saying, she pulled a face somewhere between disgust and fascination and shuffled backwards, out of his reach. She glanced over at Burr, who was standing in the semicircle that had formed around the two of them. Her facial expression said ‘help’, making Eliza and Burr both stifle chuckles when they realised what John was probably saying. After wincing and pulling a sour expression, as if eating a lemon, she reached out and shook his shoulder. “John! Laurens! Stop it!”

When he came around and realised what he was saying, he stood up and walked towards Alexander, shoving Marie to the side. “Ouch!” she exclaimed, scrambling to the side to avoid getting pushed again. Peggy pulled Marie up to her feet, quickly checking her over for any injuries. Marie pulled her skirt down and tucked her hair back behind her ear. “I’m fine, Peggy. Don’t worry about me!”

Alexander was, once again, shoved up against the wall by his collar, John shouting obscenities at him. “God, how I’d like to have that confidence,” Maria mumbled.

Eliza reached to step in, going to pull John back by his shirt. Burr put a hand on her shoulder. “Eliza, don’t. You’ll only get hurt.” Surprisingly, Angelica was the one to step in. She pulled John back and restrained him until he stopped trying to get free.

* * *

 

Eliza sat on one side of John, a hand resting on his arm, turning over the pages of her book with the other. In a chair on the other side of the bed, Alexander had fallen asleep, his head resting on John’s chest. Burr was completely out cold in a chair on the other side of the room, an ice pack on his cheek and his still-broken wrist cradled in his lap. Jane was totally immersed in her book, Marie sat at her feet, talking to Peggy about old-fashioned mannerisms and those they liked in their past lives.

“Alexander used to say that I attracted the company of women more than men!” Peggy laughed, tightening her ponytail.

Marie chuckled and tugged on the hem of her skirt, curling her fingers around the fabric. “O-oh, really?”

Jane looked down at the girls sat at her feet, raising her eyebrows and sighing in exasperation. “Oh my _god_.”

Burr shifted and woke up, peeling the ice pack off his face. “What the - oh, right.”

Marie giggled at him. “Did you forget where you were?”

“Be quiet, you little rascal,” he retorted, though there was no venom behind his words.

Marie just rolled her eyes.

“Is he okay?” he asked Eliza quietly.

“John’s just fine,” she replied. “Alex, on the other hand, is going to have some pretty nasty bruises tomorrow morning.”

Burr winced. “Ouch. I mean, he deserved it, but ouch.”

Marie burst into giggles again.

Alexander jerked awake suddenly, taking a second to get his bearings, before realising how much his throat and arms and, well, _everything_ hurt. “Oooowwww,” he groaned, cradling his head.

“Alexander!” Burr exclaimed, getting up out of his seat and walking over.

“I’ll get you some painkiller!” Marie offered, bouncing up off the floor and trying to clamber up the wall to a shelf. She slipped when one of her slip on shoes came off, squeaking, “Oh no!”

Peggy shot to her feet and caught Marie as she fell. “Gotcha!”

Marie giggled and leapt out of her arms. “Why, thank you, my knight in shining armour!”

Alexander was watching and laughing, which was distracting him from the pain of Burr swabbing his wounds with disinfectant. It was quite amusing to see the usually prim-and-proper Burr fussing over Alexander: Eliza took a few photos.

Alexander was trying to push him away. “No, I’m fine, really!”

In turn, Burr pointed out his sprained ankle, his bruised cheekbones, his split lip, his black eye and the hand-shaped bruises around his neck. Silently, he raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m not fine. But I can handle it!” he exclaimed.

“Alexander, you do not take care of yourself when you are hurt,” Lafayette pointed out from the other side of the room.

Eliza looked at him pointedly. Lafayette looked down at his leg. “Why must you remind me?”

“What happened?” Marie asked.

“I got shot in the leg at the Battle of Brandywine and did not notice until one of my men pointed out to moi that I had blood pouring out of my boot,” he explained shortly.

“And he refused to see a doctor!” Alexander added, yelping when Burr put a hand around his foot and twisted it sharply. “Ow, fuck!”

Burr looked at him sympathetically. Alexander hated sympathy and jerked away. Burr put a hand on his knee. “Hey, Alexander, you’re injured. I’ll have Marie bandage your foot and them we’ll find you some crutches and we can head back to the administration. You alright with that?”

Everyone looked incredibly surprised at Burr showing his heart. Alexander nodded, slack-jawed. Burr laughed and held out a hand for the painkillers.

A teasing, curious voice, not unlike Marie’s, rang out from the corridor. “Are you two, like, totally sure that you’re not dating?”

There were two, equally exasperated sighs from outside.

“Dolley, I am ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent sure I am _not_ dating Thomas Jefferson!” an indignant voice exclaimed.

“ _Sure_ you aren’t!” she teased, laughing.

Marie poked her head out of the door.” Hello! Sorry to interrupt, but we’re gonna go now!”

“Why?” they asked together.

“John had his rev’lation!” she exclaimed. “And he tried to kill Alexander.”

“Oh, good,” Jefferson mumbled.

Marie stuck her tongue out at him. “You are a _horrid_ person sometimes, Thomas Jefferson!” she snapped indignantly. “You are so _so_ mean to Alex and he does _not_ deserve it! Why don’t you give him another chance? Everyboby else has! You’re just stuck in the past and you can’t get over a stupid, childish rivalry you had two hundred years ago!”

Jefferson was shocked at being given a lecture from someone almost a foot shorter than him, but his eyes widened and he shut his mouth. Marie could be _intimidating_ sometimes.

She smiled innocently and swung back and forth as if nothing had happened. “Now, we’re gonna go! You guys can see Dolley any other time, but we’re all _terrible_ at actin’ and we’re gonna get caught soon!”

Dolley laughed and smiled at Marie. “You’re funny,” she decided. “I like you.”

“Thank you!” she chirruped. “Now, come _on_ , you two!”

“I’ll see you later, boys!” Dolley laughed, kissing them both on the cheeks and skipping off down the hall.

Marie giggled sweetly and raced back into the room. “So, we’re gonna wait for John to wake up, and then we’re gonna go home. How does that sound?”

They all smiled at Marie calling it home without question. But it was home. It was where their family was, and their friends, those that accepted them and those that challenged them and those that they loved. The Administration was their home, no matter if it was meant for work or not.


End file.
